


Bend Over

by fickle_fics



Category: The Hour, The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Randall's a massive dom, grey white
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickle_fics/pseuds/fickle_fics
Summary: Randall needs to be in charge most of the time. Grey's surprisingly okay with that.





	Bend Over

Grey stood naked in the middle of Randall’s bedroom, back straight and head held high as she awaited his inspection. This was how they did it now, most of the time at least - she undressed, folded her clothes away and _waited_. The first few times her brain had been buzzing with how detached the whole thing felt, with how vulnerable _she_ felt. Now she was used to it and just waiting for him made her heart beat too fast. Like she’d thought the first time he was like a stern headmaster, and she was standing in his office, waiting for him to come and judge her, see if she passed muster.

She heard the door open but didn’t turn as Randall entered naked, save for his glasses and boxers. Slowly he circled her, taking in the sight in front of him approvingly. Stopping as he faced her, his lips quirked into a tiny smile. “What to do with you?” he mused.

Grey tried not to smile but quickly gave up. There was no point in making out she wasn’t completely into this, not unless he wanted her to, and so far the sexy headmaster and naughty student fantasy was something that only existed in her head. This was something much simpler, something she’d never thought about doing before, but then she’d also never thought about how willing she’d be to let someone else take complete control when he needed to, not until she’d met Randall. She’d been lucky with Malcolm, he’d fitted in with what she was used to, what explicitly did it for. Randall was like learning a completely new way of doing things. She liked to think she’d taken to it pretty well, he’d had no complaints so far.

“Foot of the bed,” he ordered. “Bend over it.”

Silently Grey did as he said, her arms crossed in front of her, propping her up, her ass in the air as she spread her legs hopefully, turning her head to look at him as he wandered slowly over to her.

“Eyes forward,” he said, feeling her shiver as he ran his fingers slowly down her spine. “I’ve thought about bending you over my desk like this,” he admitted, leaning over her, his voice low in her ear. “Do you know how long it’s been since I was distracted like that, Grey?”

She bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan. “I know you work late sometimes,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind helping out,” she added.

“Oh I bet you wouldn’t,” he growled, stepping between her open legs, pressing himself against her ass, letting her feel what she was missing.

“Randall,” she groaned, unable to stop herself.

“Hmmm?”

She closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. She’d occasionally been submissive with Malcolm, but never anything like this, even then it had all been very desperate, passionate. Randall’s ability to be so removed from things when he wanted to be sometimes felt like more than she could take. She was starting to live for those moments when she made him come undone, when his mask fell away. She had to admit though his quiet, calm authority did things to her she really couldn’t explain.

“Please,” she said, hating him just a little bit for making her ask.

“Please, what?” he replied.

“Please just...just fucking fuck me, yeah?”

She heard him laugh then, a sound she’d never heard him make before. He barely even smiled. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Having you obeying everything I say? Bent over my bed with your backside in the air? Yes, yes, I am,” he told her. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Well, yeah, obviously but...seriously. _Please_.”

He leant over her again, kissing the nape of her neck gently. “Patience, Grey. I don’t want to fuck you yet. There are other things I want to do first.”

“Like?”

“This,” he said, his hand slipping between her legs, one finger sliding into her and curling.

“Fuck,” she hissed. For all their differences Randall had Malcolm’s fingers, long and slender and _made_ for this.

“Any objections?” he asked, adding a second as he started to thrust them in and out of her.

“No. _Fuck_ no!” she said, resisting the urge to push back against them. He probably had his own rhythm, perfectly timed, counted out in his head. She turned her head to look at him though, his face as calm as always, not giving anything away.

“Thought not,” he said as he continued what he was doing, standing over her as he watched the way she moved, just slightly, clearly trying not to. “Tell me what you want to do,” he said.

Grey closed her eyes. She’d never been much good at talking like that, not sober at least, but she also didn’t like to let Randall down. She’d realised early on she’d do whatever the fuck he asked, even if it did make her feel vaguely uncomfortable at first.

“I wanna fuck myself on your fingers.” she admitted. “I wanna come around them, and then I want you to fuck me, however the hell you like, while I’m still trying to recover.”

“But you’re not going to, are you?” he asked, ignoring the pulsing in his cock, the desire to do just as she’d said. He liked to take his time too much to do that.

“No,” Grey conceded. 

“And why is that, hmmm?” he asked.

“Because that’s not the plan.” His plan. but she felt better calling it ‘ _the_ plan.’ As if it meant she wasn’t _really_ obeying him like a good little sub.

“No,” he agreed fingers never faltering. “That _isn’t_ the plan. Would you like to know what is?”

Grey nodded.

“ _This_.” he hissed, another slender finger pressing inside her as he sped up, thrusting harder and faster, so hard in fact her body moved in time with his hand.

He watched the way her hands curled in the sheets under her, feeling the tension in her body as she stayed as still as she could, letting him do all the work. It was a shame he detested mess so much or he was sure he could have done more with her.

Then, just as he felt her starting to pulse around his fingers he stopped, removing them completely. “Turn around,” he ordered. “Let me see your face.”

Grey glared at him as she turned around, propping herself up on her elbows as she laid with her legs over the bed. She’d been so close, another minute if that and she’d’ve been there. 

And he’d _stopped_.

“Don’t be like that,” he told her, fingers sliding easily back into place as he continued as if nothing had changed. “I want to see how you look when it’s all too much. I’m normally much more distracted when you climax.”

Grey bit her lip, looking up at him, unable to take her eyes off him. There was something so... _stoic_ about him, even now, as if he wasn’t fingering her like a jackhammer. It was maddening really but she was waiting for the slip.

It came moments before she did, as she started panting, pulsing around him, with her nails digging into her palms and her toes curling. His lips parted and his gaze changed almost imperceptibly into something more intent, more hungry. That was all it took as he fucked her through it, never slowing down even as her hips bucked and her arms gave way under her and she was left there, sprawled naked on his bed, still shaking as she gasped for breath.

“Sit up,” he said.

Shakily she pushed herself up.

Randall smiled at the sight of her - flushed, hair messy, chest still heaving, pushing off his underwear and folding it neatly before laying it beside her on the bed and stepping in between her legs, pushing them open again,

“What was that you said about me fucking you before you had to recover?” he asked.


End file.
